


up all night on another red eye (i wish we never learned to fly)

by ashlearose13



Series: the delta trilogy [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Clint POV, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fast Paced Relationship, Multimedia, Musicians, Pop Princess Natasha Romanov, Rock Star Clint Barton, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21658279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashlearose13/pseuds/ashlearose13
Summary: “Play another,” Clint said eventually.“Okay,” Tasha answered. She picked up the guitar, caressed it like a lover, except Clint knew now that her hands were a little rougher than they seemed. Her fingers plucked at the strings, her shoulders drooped down again, and then her voice rose, musty and sweet, the kind of voice he could die listening to.She sang Blackbird like it was hers, and Clint thought that The Beatles must have known she was coming, that they surely had written this song with her in mind the same way Clint had started writing song after song with only her face behind his eyelids.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Series: the delta trilogy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919128
Comments: 10
Kudos: 121





	up all night on another red eye (i wish we never learned to fly)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taylorswift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylorswift/gifts).



> i.... don't know how this got away from me but here we are with this crazy story that was originally gonna be like, only 1000 words long. title from billie eilish's 'i love you'. anyway go watch the black widow trailer if you haven't already!!
> 
> hope you enjoy xx

The guitar was second hand from a little record store in the middle of Buttfuck Nowhere, Texas, but it was the first guitar Clint had bought with his own money and incidentally, it was now his most prized possession.

“C’mon, give it a go,” he said.

Tasha eyed the guitar critically. “Are you sure?”

“Yea, sure,” Clint said. “Give it a whirl.”

Tasha held the guitar like it was made of glass. The guitar had been through a lot worse than sitting in her soft hands but she knew – probably from interviews – that if he had to save anything in a fire it would be his stupid dog and that instrument, family photos be damned.

He sat back in his chair, feet up on the desk, careful not to bump any buttons and give Coulson another grey hair. Tasha sat on a beanbag on the floor with the guitar in her lap, legs curled beneath her and face soft in the dim studio lighting. She was a different person away from the harsh techno lights they used to have her dance under. That was why Clint had invited her here.

That, and he wanted to hear something different. He wanted to watch her fingers on the strings. He wanted to see how far she would let herself go with this.

She didn’t hesitate, after that, not that he expected her to. The first quiet notes didn’t sound like much, just soft music that made the hairs on Clint’s arms stand up. Then he recognised the tune, a slow rendition of _Songbird_ by Fleetwood Mac, and it all washed over him in a wave of _something_ he didn’t quite understand yet.

Tasha’s fingers were steady on the strings. It was mesmerising, watching them move. Her head was bowed so he couldn’t see her face but her shoulders were relaxed. It was probably the most relaxed he had ever seen her. And if he couldn’t take his eyes off her then that was his own business.

But then she stopped, hand curling around the neck of the guitar. She looked up and he was aware that it was just the two of them in the studio; no managers or producers, only him and Tasha and his crummy old guitar.

“That was good,” he said softly, like it meant something.

“Thank you,” Tasha replied. She set the guitar aside and uncurled her legs, arms wrapping around her knees instead. “It’s a nice song.”

“Yea,” Clint said, and if his voice was gruff it had nothing to do with the way his eyes burned suddenly, or how his throat felt thick with emotion. “It is a nice song.”

“There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Clint looked up from where he was fiddling with his phone, trying not to get caught up in all of the gossip on Twitter because he already felt like his designer had missed the mark with his outfit and he didn’t need the rest of the world to confirm it. Coulson looked good in his suit, but Coulson looked good in any suit.

“Huh?” he said.

“Someone I want _you_ to meet,” Coulson repeated. “I think you’ll get along. And they swapped your seat anyway.”

“So I have no choice,” Clint grumbled and stood up. It wasn’t that he didn’t like meeting new people, it was that he didn’t particularly like attending award shows. They were long and he had to get dressed up, and he usually missed something important on TV. Tonight it was the season finale of _Dog Cops_. He tried not to think about it.

“You might make a friend,” Coulson said as they walked. “You might win an award. Then I can cross two things off my bucket list.”

Clint rolled his eyes. They were closer to the stage now, so he would have to remember to smile more often or the headlines would be remarking on his ‘resting bitch-face’ again. Coulson stopped them in front of a woman who was standing primly on her own, red hair curled into an extravagant bun atop her head.

“Clint, this is Natalia,” Coulson introduced. “You’re new seat is here, on her left.”

“Hey,” Clint said. He knew of Natalia, and had seen one of her music videos on YouTube before, but it was too bright and flashy for him. She was America's sweetheart, even though she was technically Russian or something, Clint couldn’t remember. “How ya going?”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Natalia smiled. She shook Coulson’s hand but didn’t reach for Clint’s. Her dress was huge and pink and fluffy; if anyone could pull it off, Clint thought she would be the _only_ one.

“I’ll be ready with the car later,” Coulson said. “Good luck, Natalia.”

“Thank you,” she said sweetly, and then Coulson left and the two of them stood awkwardly apart from one another.

“What’re you nominated for?” Clint asked. He knew that Coulson would want him to ask that, and Natalia didn’t seem to have anyone waiting for her. He thought her hair would look nicer down, paired with a dress that wasn’t so… intense. Then he shook the thought from his head. He had only just met her. Twitter would eat her alive.

“Pop video,” Natalia answered, a curl to her lip that didn’t quite fit the _sweetheart_ description. “You?”

“Song,” Clint told her. “For, uh, _Fringe_.”

Natalia’s eyes widened. “I like _Fringe_.”

“Thanks,” Clint said. He tried not to read too much into her expression. He also tried not to let on that he didn’t know any of her songs. “I think they’re trying to seat us.”

Natalia glanced over her pale shoulder to watch the attendants rush between rows in a vain attempt to get everyone organised. When she turned back to him her eyes were a little less bright, but by the time he blinked she was vibrant again, smiling. “Good luck, Clint.”

“You too,” he said sincerely. He sat and sent Coulson a quick text before the lights dimmed and he would have to pretend to be interested. The tulle from Natalia’s dress monstrosity tickled his forearm.

_uncross make a friend :/_

_ik you already crossed it_

_not happening she's toooooo weird_

**A M Y** @amytimeamywhere

natalia SLAYED the carpet but sugar sky shouldve been soty ,,, daylight ROBBERY

> **E! News** @enews
> 
> Taylor Swift, Natalia, and More Best Dressed Stars at the MTV Music Awards. e.onli.ne/2h239jj

**clint barton lovebot** @cl1ntbart0nluv

omgggg my bby got his first mtv award!! so deserving <3

> **E! News** @enews
> 
> Clint Barton Gives Humble Speech After Receiving First Ever MTV Video Music Award. e.onli.ne/8fehf7

Clint didn’t like looking at Wikipedia, but it told him that Natalia _was_ from Russia, originally, and that she had three best-selling albums and had been in this business since she was a teenager, which gave her actual _years_ on Clint’s own career.

Coulson paused to read over his shoulder. “I thought you thought she was weird.”

“She’s a child,” Clint said. He scrolled back to the early life section of the page to re-read the little information it provided, which was shocking enough because someone with 1.3 million Instagram followers generally couldn’t keep that much information from the public. Clint knew, and he only had 760k.

“You’re a year older than her.”

Coulson sounded exasperated. Clint scowled at the screen and the perfect image it displayed of Natalia, sat in front of her manager at sixteen, about to sign her very first contract and become an overnight pop sensation. He didn’t cut his hair once when he was sixteen.

“Besides the point,” Clint said. “How can someone be so young and so old?”

Natalia had clapped and smiled and looked genuinely pleased for every winner at the MTV Awards, which had caused Clint to watch her so much that he eventually just couldn’t look away. During the ad break she had even turned to Clint and asked him what he thought about the way that Lady GaGa had revolutionised pop and all he could do was tell her that _Bad Romance_ was his favourite song, even if he didn’t quite get the music video.

It wasn’t that Clint didn’t know about music, but he knew more about the feel of guitar strings and piano keys, the way a whole feeling could get bundled up into three minutes and forty seconds; he liked the way a song could envelop him from head to toe, the way he couldn’t shake it for days.

“ _She_ didn’t win Song of the Year,” Coulson said. “You did. So quit the pity party.”

Clint pulled up the video for _Sugar Sky_ and tried to get past the flashy dancing to really hear the lyrics. It was a nice song, just a little weak. He could imagine the way it would sound with more feeling, more _oomph_. It had potential. He wanted to pull it apart, play around with it.

“Whatever,” he said instead, and shut the laptop. It wasn’t his problem, and realistically, he would probably never see her again unless she needed a backup dancer in her next clip.

Clint had a farm. It was in the middle of Iowa, somewhere past a tree or two, and it wasn’t on Wikipedia so he considered that a win.

There was a barn, and chickens, and a patchwork coloured horse called Serendipity that had big donkey-like ears and an attitude that was beyond the typical mare. He thought he could introduce Dip to Tasha and see which one of them came out on top. It might be fun, watching a horse out-stubborn her.

“Oh, a _horse_ ,” Tasha said when he took her to the field. She had peppermints in her hand and a beanie pulled down tight over her ears. “You have a horse.”

“Told ya,” Clint said. He reached for Dip’s halter and stroked his hand down the horse’s neck, then watched as Tasha’s impossibly small hand followed his trajectory across the fur. “She’s a meany, though.”

“She’s not,” Tasha cooed. “Look at her. Her eyes are too soft.”

Clint couldn’t look at the horse. Not with Tasha there in her jeans and turtleneck, with her face caught in a grin so wide it almost split in two; not when he hadn’t even thought she would come and here she was, on his farm in the middle of nowhere, Iowa, for the entire weekend.

And it probably didn’t mean much when she held his hand on the walk back to the house. It probably didn’t mean much at all.

dailyclintbarton

> “I don’t think that’s something I’m really ready to focus on at the moment. I’m kinda… in this really great place, regarding the next album and everything that comes with promoting [it]. So at the moment, nah, there’s not… I guess when I find someone that can deal with [all of this], yea, that’s when I’ll perhaps focus on a relationship, because it’ll have to fit in. I don’t wanna push anyone away.”
> 
>   * Clint Barton at the AMA Red Carpet, about whether or not a relationship is on the cards for him
> 


#this makes me #equal parts sad and happy #he seems like?? defeated?? #I WANNA HUG HIM #but also that subtle new album hint #i see you #clint barton #love of my life #amas

1382 notes

“Hey, you coming to the after party?”

Natalia turned to face him, her expression momentarily caught off guard before she smoothed it back into what he was beginning to realise was the fakest smile known to humankind. Her dress tonight was another tulle and velvet love child, the kind of outfit children wore to birthday parties. Or adults wore to collect Artist of the Year, apparently

“What after party?” she asked.

It hadn’t occurred to Clint that she might not know about it. “Here, gimme your number and I’ll text you the address.”

He didn’t mean it to sound so… forward. Nothing changed on her face except for the way her eyes left his, as though she had almost been expecting this to happen one way or the other. He scrambled to make it right, unsure why he had even thought to come over and ask her in the first place. He had had _Sugar Sky_ stuck in his head for months.

“I mean, I can DM you or something, it doesn’t matter, it’s just this stupid after party but I thought if you were going I would come say hi, maybe, I don’t know –” he pulled his phone out of his pocket, held it out in front of him like a prayer. “I don’t know. Just thought maybe you wanted to have some fun.”

“Who says I’m not having fun already?” Natalia asked with a hint of venom.

Clint bit. “Your dress. Your face. You literally _never_ look like you're having fun.”

He didn’t really know enough about her. Had met her once, then watched all of her music videos like some kind of creep, picked apart the lyrics until he realised that there was someone in there trying to get out. Maybe she wasn’t weird, maybe she was just lacking certain life experiences.

“Okay,” Natalia said eventually. She took his phone and pressed in her number. “I’ll see you at the after party.”

It took him the better part of the night to find her name, saved under ‘tasha’ with a little microphone emoji. He stared at it for so long he almost forgot to message her.

Coulson was reading an article, Clint could tell by the raised eyebrow. “Looks like you did make a friend after all.”

He didn’t see the photo, but he knew which one Coulson was referring to; Clint in his jeans and Tasha in her princess dress, arms wound around each other’s waists and heads pressed together like they had some big secret to share.

Clint supposed that they did, in a way.

Natalia swirled her feet around in the water, casting her eyes out over the pool to where the real party was happening inside. Clint could feel the bass even this far away. He wasn’t exactly sure who was playing, but it was a nice night and he had rolled his jeans up so he could sit with Natalia in the pool instead of mingling with the other, scarier celebs.

“Are all after parties like this?” Natalia asked.

“Like what?” Clint said.

“Calm,” she said softly. “There’s so much going on and it’s just… nothing is really happening. It’s like that everywhere. Nothing is ever happening.”

Clint shrugged. “Thought you would’ve been to a few of these.”

“Did you Google me?”

“Maybe,” he told her after a beat. He tilted his head back to the sky and squinted at the stars. Long ago Barney had told him about the constellations but he hadn’t thought it was important at the time. “Did you Google me?”

“I told you I liked _Fringe_ ,” Natalia said.

“Oof, I feel like an ass,” Clint groaned. “I knew _of_ you because you're _you_ , one of the biggest pop stars in the world. I just… felt like there was a little more. Plus, if it makes you feel better, I haven’t been able to get _Sugar Sky_ out of my head.”

“I’m not mad,” she said softly.

Clint didn’t know what to say. He had a busy schedule coming up, with press tours in Asia and some final touches to put on the new record before they would be ready to release the lead single. And yet he was still sitting with her without really knowing why.

“I wanted _Sugar Sky_ to be something more,” Natalia said, leaning back on her elbows. “I wanted it to be like _Fringe_ and _To You_ , just honest and complex. They don’t… they don’t give me much creative license.”

Clint frowned. “That really sucks.”

“My contract is about to end and I –” she laughed, pulled her feet from the water and crossed them beneath her. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I just want something more than fairy dresses and songs about love that’s all fake. I used to dance ballet and it’s not as beautiful as people think, it’s deadly and sharp and –”

Clint could imagine Natalia dancing ballet. The choreo in her music videos was simple and did nothing to highlight the fact that she was clearly trained, and Clint wanted to know more about it. He wanted to see it.

“I think I need a drink,” Natalia said. She stood in one fluid motion and held her hand out to Clint, and he took it without even thinking about how _new_ this all was. This friendship or _whatever_. Whatever was happening.

“I’m gonna be in Asia for a month,” he said as she led him away from the pool.

“I’ll text you,” she replied easily. “That’s why you got my number, isn’t it?”

Clint hummed. He wanted to get wasted all of a sudden, the kind of wasted he hadn’t been since Coulson had signed him. He had a plane to catch in the morning. There were calluses on Natalia’s hand that he could feel on his own.

“Call me Tasha. No one else calls me that, but I like it.”

He pulled her against his side. The tulle was wet against his leg.

saw you on tv eating squid??

I think it was squid

clint what was that

omg don’t

don’t talk to me about that

last night you said you were “incapable of disliking food”

I lied

lol

how’s tokyo??

bright

loud

they seem excited about the record

everyones excited about the record dummy

teenage girls are crying themselves to sleep over it rn

ur funny tash

hows 24

i didn’t forget

did you google my birthday

maybe

24 is fine

you know that

hey i wrote a song

what

you gonna play it for me??

maybe when you get back

its called july

something happen in july

somrthing happened in a july

how mysterious of you

im hanging for a burger

wanna get a burger

don’t you still have a whole month

clint you just got to tokyo

i have a farm

its not on google

you should come check it out sometime

Clint didn’t enjoy photo-shoots, but Coulson said it was important to have magazine covers to promote new music, and Coulson was generally right, so Clint sat with his old acoustic guitar and looked off into the distance, or let his dumb dog Lucky rest his big head on Clint’s knee, and he thought about how most of the songs on his new record weren’t what he wanted to put out.

They weren’t bad; Clint had written bad songs before, and he swore to never let them see the light of day. His first album had been so successful straight off the bat that the pressure was starting to get to him, just a little. He had a whole new string of awards attached to his name and the promise of a world tour after the release of _Bridge of Clay_ and it made him wonder if it was going to ever be good enough.

He didn’t look at the article. He took his copy of the magazine home, to the farm, and gave it to his barn hand Kate. She had a way with voices and words that made the nonsense in his head disappear, and she read the article to him like it was Dr Seuss and they were just two kids camping out in the barn.

“You doing okay?” she asked when she was finished. “You’ve been a little… different, since Asia.”

“I’m fine,” he replied, hands behind his head and straw between his teeth just like Barney taught him. “I'm just growing with it. Plus, maybe the album sucks, I don’t know.”

“Lame,” Kate crowed. “Remember when you first brought Dip home, and she bolted straight back into the fence like she hadn’t learnt the first time?”

Clint did remember, because he had been the one to find her tangled in the barbed wire, eyes wild and blood running in rivulets down her strong shoulder.

“Sometimes you gotta do something painful twice, make sure it happens the same,” Kate said. “Then you think, well, there’s only one way to stop this from happening: you don’t do it again.”

“What’s your point, Katie?”

Kate shrugged and brushed her bangs out of her forehead. “Maybe this album doesn’t feel right because it’s very similar to the first. There’s a lot of heartbreak there. But next time, you won’t do it that way. You’ll just… know.”

dailyclintbarton

> “ _Bridge of Clay_ is very much a letter to the past… this kind of longing and, uh, I guess you could say abandonment? It’s very hard to describe how this album came about because it feels like an extension of _Lime Cordial_. I guess I wasn’t ready to let go of those feelings yet. I wasn’t finished [with it]. So it’s complicated. I don’t even know if that’s a fair term.
> 
> \- Clint Barton for Rolling Stones

#oof our boy is struggling #or at least he was #i feel like he’s almost not as happy?? #he doesn’t seem thrilled about boc #but im excited bc we knew its gnna be lit!! #clint barton

976 notes

Clint Barton was at the fucking Grammys, of all places, trying not to puke as he watched Tasha announce Album of the Year because he knew it wasn’t going to be him but _what if it was_.

He got his answer instantly, though, by the way her forehead crumpled just slightly before she beamed and read out the winner. He _knew_ he had had no chance against Taylor Swift. Tasha looked nice, in a deep purple gown that was probably the most grown-up thing he had ever seen her wear at an awards show before. His suit itched. He didn’t look as neat as Coulson.

He didn’t see Tasha all night, not until he was trying to sneak out while everyone else drank champagne and sat for photo ops. She pulled him into a hard hug, squished between people trying to get past without stepping on her train. It occurred to him that he hadn’t seen her since the AMA’s.

“How about that burger?” she whispered in his ear. “I have a lot to say about your album.”

“Which one?” he asked gruffly. _Lime Cordial_ had been nominated, which had started up the Twitter threads again and made his anxiety about _Bridge of Clay_ return in full force. It had been received well, especially well by his teenage fan base, but it just felt like a bad taste at the back of his mouth.

“You know which one,” she teased lightly. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

**jenny from the block** @jjskye

clint really was done dirty :( not even nominated for soty?? grammys are whack

> **E! News** @enews
> 
> Clint Barton, Ariana Grande and Other Artists Snubbed at the 60th Grammy Awards. e.onli.ne/262ji1

**im flying high/ in you're sugar sky** @nataliabbby

anyone else sense a change in nat?? is our girl growing up??

> **E! News** @enews
> 
> Natalia has Arrived on the Grammys Red Carpet!

Coulson had a way of turning up in Clint’s house without Clint knowing. Finding him at the kitchen table reading the paper on a Sunday morning was perhaps the least surprising part of Clint’s week.

“You and Natalia seem to be good enough friends for someone who thought she was ‘toooooo weird’.”

Clint rolled his eyes. He had been waiting for this conversation for a while, like he was a teenager again and Coulson was his dad and Tasha was the first girl he was bringing home. Except he had brought Stella and Bobbie home before, even if he regretted letting Stella in as much as he did.

“Is this a Talk?” Clint asked sarcastically.

“No,” Coulson replied evenly. “But I have you slated to guest judge on The Voice.”

“Awww, The Voice?” Clint whined. “No way. C’mon, Phil.”

“Be thankful I didn’t push for you in _The Avengers_ , or otherwise you would’ve performed on The Voice,” Coulson said. “Which is arguably worse.”

He had a point. Clint had never wanted to join a boy band, but Coulson had picked him up right when his label was looking for a fourth member in _The Avengers_ , America’s answer to _One Direction_. He had been lucky that Steve Rogers had also been picked up at the same time; the man could hold a note okay, but most of the time, people weren’t in it for the music anyway.

“Fine, I’ll do The Voice,” he grumbled. He lifted the coffee pot and drank straight from it, feeling the instant kick he needed to boost start his mornings. Coffee was good.

“Natalia’s contract is up,” Coulson said casually. “Rumour has it she’s looking for a new label.”

Clint frowned. “She said they don’t give her much freedom.”

“It’s interesting,” Coulson said cryptically, before folding the paper and leaning back in his chair. “I need you presentable in an hour so we can get to _Ellen_ on time for once. Absolutely no pizza stops this time. You can eat breakfast like a normal human being.”

i have a farm

its not on google

you should come check it out sometime

okay

They made dinner to the tune of Bon Iver and St. Vincent, Tasha having never heard _Roslyn_ before and Clint finding it something of a mortal sin even though the song wasn’t that old at all. There was an expression on her face that made him put the song on repeat.

She sat on the countertop kicking her feet, watching him stir onion in a pot that had one too many char marks in the bottom. “Hey, Clint?”

“Yea,” he said. He angled his body to her, and they were closer than he had realised, her thighs almost touching his hip in the small space. “Yea, Tasha?”

Clint carried her to the bedroom, stumbling up stairs and over old carpet, barely remembering to turn the stove off before they went. He should have cleaned the room, should have at least made sure the dirty clothes were _under_ the bed and not all over it, but Tasha helped him throw them off between kisses down his collarbone.

Tasha had freckles on her shoulders and eyes so green he could lose himself in them, and when she pulled away long enough to ask, “do you have –” her lips were red and swollen and he just wanted to kiss her into oblivion.

“Yea,” he said, already reaching into the bedside table drawer. She helped him out of the last of his clothes and then he was rolling the condom on and pressing into her, watching her mouth open around a moan as she moved her hips against him.

His last time had been Stella, probably, but it was never like this. Not even with Bobbie, who he thought was The One for all of two months. Tasha was fireworks, soft touches, hot and heavy and her laugh against his shoulder as the bed creaked embarrassingly loud beneath them.

“God, don’t stop,” she moaned against his mouth, teeth sinking into his bottom lip just hard enough to draw a little blood. “Clint, just don’t –”

And he could still hear _Roslyn_ over the sound of her and him and them, could taste peppermint leftover on her skin, felt her come apart like the crescendo of a song they hadn’t written yet.

Clint could picture it. Clint could picture a lot of things.

“You’ve been a little… different, since Asia.”

He had text Tasha nearly every day, and when he didn’t text she rang and they even Face Timed one night when she was in the middle of a shoot and he couldn’t sleep. He didn’t really know what had happened or how it had happened or even how many times they had inevitably bumped into each other, all of the award shows and after parties blurring into a mess of a year that resulted only in a new album he wasn’t entirely sold on.

They had talked about everything. Tasha and how she felt trapped because her manager had dragged her from Russia to sing songs in a language she had barely understood at the time; how they treated her like the child she had long outgrown and she just wanted to dance again, feel the rush of the stage beneath her without having to look up and see flashing lights in every direction.

Clint had told her about Barney and how it was just the two of them, until Barney fucked up one too many times and Clint was taken away from him, and how he hadn’t seen his brother since but had read about him in an article on dumb criminals because Barney _was_ a dumb criminal. He hadn’t been homeless, he just hadn’t exactly had a home, and he told Tasha about Coulson finding him on the street and signing him without really knowing anything about him.

He hadn’t told anyone that before, only alluded to it in desperate songs throughout _Lime Cordial_. He hadn’t expected to spill his guts to her and have her listen or stick around and when had she started sticking around anyway? He liked her sticking around. He liked her and the parts of her that were real and not painted in glitter.

It was like a secret. He put the straw in his mouth.

**im flying high/ in you're sugar sky** @nataliabbby

im a lil scared to see where this takes nat… idk anyone else feel like a big change is coming??

> **E! News** @enews
> 
> BREAKING: Natalia Has Left BW Records for Shield Music. More at e.onli.ne/8eh37

**this is a knife** @lolzrey

good on her!! bout time she grew her own wings and left bw in the dirt!!

> **E! News** @enews
> 
> BREAKING: Natalia Has Left BW Records for Shield Music. More at e.onli.ne/8eh37

Coulson was at the kitchen counter, stealing Clint’s cereal when he said, “I signed Natalia.”

Clint stopped what he was doing, scratching Lucky on the belly until the dog’s leg started to thump against the ground. “Huh?”

“Thought you would know,” Coulson said, but the thing was Clint didn’t _have_ to know, she didn’t _have_ to tell him anything more than everything she already had.

He just shrugged. “You know I don’t look online.”

It was April and it was crisp, and Tasha curled herself closer to him in the early morning light and Clint thought April might be his favourite month. It was easy to imagine that the weekend could last a lifetime. Clint thought if he tried hard enough it might.

“Teach me to ride your grumpy horse,” Tasha whispered.

She had only packed jeans so Clint swung her up onto Dip’s back and she sat like she knew exactly what she was doing, her hair burning with the sun as it rose and her face still smooshed with sleep. She bundled her hands in Dip’s mane and he thought he might actually love her. He hadn’t loved anyone in a long time.

“Take a picture of me,” she asked. She swung her arms out wide and Clint took the photo, a little scared to have this Tasha frozen in time but mostly glad he could make her smile like _that_.

[Image Caption: Tasha astride a paint horse, arms held up and out like she is flying, hair tinged with sunlight and face open and utterly happy. The silhouette of a man can be seen on the grass before the horse.]

View all 5,952 comments

 **natalia** this is dip

APRIL 9, 2018

dailyclintbarton

> im about to post a timeline that will P R O V E clint and natalia are dating…. watch this space

#THEY ARE DATING #YOU CAN'T CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE OKAY #something def happened after the amas #and that was nov last year so #clint barton #natalia #perhaps a conspiracy??

346 notes

They were good at sneaking Tasha in, so good that not even Coulson realised at first, even if Clint thought that Coulson would know anyway. He hated calling it sneaking like they were children but the only one who knew was Maria, from his security team, and he liked the way Tasha giggled every time he pulled her along with him down the hallway.

He had to tour soon and she still hadn’t signed with anyone and it was all so new, even after the weekend at the farm that felt like a lifetime ago but was only last month. He liked April the most; April with her, brand new and soft, chilly mornings and back entrances, the way she sat with his guitar in the evenings and sung lullabies to him.

April, then May. May was not so good.

you didn’t tell me you signed with phil

or just shield in general

yea I knew phil would tell you

exciting right??

yea

and yet you don’t seem excited

whats wrong

is it because I let phil tell you

you let him??

he was so pumped

it was like a kid at christmas

it’s a big deal

not unless you make it one

whats that mean??

im not making it anything

you don’t seem happy about it clint

its fine

its good

you can write your own songs now

are you jealous

i hate saying that

don’t be so full of yourself

idc that phil signed you, i care you didn’t say anything

i care about you and it’s a big fuckn deal tasha

its not that big

its just me

maybe that’s the problem

its not JUST you tash

its always you

and its gonna be diferent now and I have to tour, you know that

fuck

clint I didn’t

I didn’t fucking mean that

what if its too different

don’t

nothing changes

god this is new and i don’t wanna

we’ve known each other for a year

I talked to you every day in november

you told me about your fucking period tasha

i care about you okay

and maybe I was scared it was gonna change too

and i don’t wanna mess it up this time and

and its new its too new

but i fucking love you

okay??

Coulson was in the living room when Clint stumbled out. Tasha sat on the counter, eyes wide, swinging her legs, and Clint didn’t know what he was walking into until he was smack bang in the middle of it.

“I have an idea,” Coulson said.

“Play another,” Clint said eventually.

“Okay,” Tasha answered. She picked up the guitar, caressed it like a lover, except Clint knew now that her hands were a little rougher than they seemed. Her fingers plucked at the strings, her shoulders drooped down again, and then her voice rose, musty and sweet, the kind of voice he could die listening to.

She sang _Blackbird_ like it was hers, and Clint thought that The Beatles must have known she was coming, that they surely had written this song with her in mind the same way Clint had started writing song after song with only her face behind his eyelids.

dailyclintbarton

> 2017:
> 
>   * so we all agree they met at the mtv awards right?? sat next to each other front row
>   * then nothing until the amas which is a whole 4 MONTHS later
>   * (but as @clints-natalia pointed out, they went to the after party together)
>   * clint was in asia for the whole of december but then THE GRAMMYS
> 

> 
> 2018:
> 
>   * the grammys are jan – we see clint and nat hug in that blurry backstage clip
>   * which fine but also THEY ONLY MET TWICE
>   * so something happened at the amas after party
>   * or december BUT
>   * clint had a vacay in jan too before bridge of clay was released AND the grammys
>   * then N O T H I N G
>   * until april
>   * clint and nat both disappear and then ~the insta pic~
>   * that was clint’ silhouette fight me
>   * nat is signed to shield in may and basically the only concrete proof i have they are dating is one blurry video and a shadow in a pic
>   * I need help
> 


#im on crack #this is a mess #in my head it all seems very legit #clint barton #natalia #what do we call them #clintnat?? #this blew up lol

2628 notes

Clint leaned a little closer to the microphone, shifted his guitar until it all felt comfortable and right. Tasha sat across from him in yoga pants and Coulson sat behind the glass at the controls. He strummed the guitar like they had all the time in the world, and in a way, he thought they probably did.

**hom(i)er** @nothomersimpson

THEY'RE COLLABORATING?!? UNDER A NEW NAME?!?! MARTY IM SCARED -

> **E! News** @enews
> 
> Clint Barton and Natalia to Record New Music, Bridge of Clay Tour Cancelled Ahead of First ‘Delta’ Album. e.onli.ne/23hyy

**number one delta stam** @natclint

“I’m happier with this album and Natalia is just phenomenal, so, yea, I hope the world loves it as much as I do.”

> **E! News** @enews
> 
> Clint Barton and Natalia to Record New Music, Bridge of Clay Tour Cancelled Ahead of First ‘Delta’ Album. e.onli.ne/23hyy

Clint didn’t read the reviews when they released _Serendipity_. Tasha did, locking herself in the bedroom for hours until he convinced her to come out and at least tell him if it was good or bad. She cried and hugged him, and then he cried too, and Coulson fielded calls from talk shows hosts for days until the hype died down.

“Do you think this all happened too fast?” he asked later, tangled up in bed with her and a few minutes to spare before they had to get up and catch a plane.

“Sometimes it feels like it didn’t happen fast enough,” Tasha replied.

“Do you think Delta is a good idea?” he said, and it wasn’t that he was scared of ruining his career, it was that he was scared of ruining _this_ and her.

“Fuck yea it is,” she laughed. “It’s both of us. What more could the world ask for?”

i care about you okay

and maybe I was scared it was gonna change too

and i don’t wanna mess it up this time and

and its new its too new

but i fucking love you

okay??

yea okay

huh

i love you too

[Image Caption: Tasha and Clint, faces pressed together and cheesy grins plastered on their faces. Clint with one arm wrapped around Tasha’s middle, the other against the bathroom counter balancing their weight. Tasha wearing a huge shirt that is clearly Clint’s. The bathroom is a mess and they are happy. ]

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 **natalia** this is clint

SEPTEMBER 17, 2018


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